The Boy Scouts at the Panama Canal

  THE BOY SCOUTS AT THE PANAMA CANAL

  by

  LIEUT. HOWARD PAYSON

  Author of"The Boy Scouts of the Eagle Patrol,""The Boy Scouts on the Range,""The Boy Scouts and the Army Airship,""The Boy Scouts' Mountain Camp,""The Boy Scouts for Uncle Sam," etc.

  A. L. BURT COMPANYPublishers New YorkPrinted in U. S. A.

  Copyright, 1913byHurst & CompanyMade in U. S. A.

  CONTENTS

  CHAPTER PAGE I. Boy Scouts to the Rescue 5 II. An Angry Farmer 16 III. On a Mission 27 IV. Some Up-to-date Advertising 35 V. A Big Surprise 43 VI. Baseball 53 VII. A Test for the Eagles 66 VIII. Skill vs. Muscle 85 IX. Fire! 91 X. A Scout Hero 100 XI. The Fire Test 113 XII. In Peril of His Life 122 XIII. The Enemy's Move 131 XIV. A Novel Proposal 148 XV. Off for the Isthmus 156 XVI. Something about the Canal 167 XVII. At Old Panama 181 XVIII. Between Earth and Sky 191 XIX. The Gatun Dam 200 XX. A Dynamite Volcano 209 XXI. "Run for Your Lives!" 217 XXII. The Boys Meet an Old Acquaintance 223 XXIII. Along the Chagres 232 XXIV. The Trackless Jungle 241 XXV. A Chapter of Accidents 257 XXVI. The Ruined City 270 XXVII. "Be Prepared" 284

  The Boy Scouts at the Panama Canal

  CHAPTER I. BOY SCOUTS TO THE RESCUE.

  Farmer Hiram Applegate had just finished breakfast. For this reason,perhaps, he felt exceptionally good-humored. Even the news he had read inhis morning paper (of the day before) to the effect that his petabomination and aversion, The Boy Scouts, had held a successful andpopular review in New York and received personal commendation from thePresident failed to shake his equanimity.

  Outside the farmhouse the spring sun shone bright and warm. The air wascrisp, and odorous with the scent of apple blossoms. Robins twitteredcheerily, hens clucked and now and then a blue bird flashed among theorchard trees.

  As Hiram stepped out on his "vendetta," as he called his verandah--or, touse the old-fashioned word and the better one, "porch"--he was joined bya rather heavy-set youth with small, shifty eyes and a sallow skin whichgave the impression of languishing for soap and water. A suit of loudpattern, new yellow boots with "nobby" toes, and a gaudy necktie did notadd to young Jared Applegate's general appearance.

  "Pop," he began, after a glance at the old man's crabbed and wrinkledfeatures, just then aglow with self-satisfaction, "Pop, how about thatmoney I spoke about?"

  Old Applegate stared at his offspring from under his heavy, iron-graybrows.

  "A fine time to be askin' fer money!" he snorted indignantly, "you justback frum Panamy--under a cloud, too, and yet you start a pesterin' mefer money as ef it grew on trees."

  "What d'ye want it fer, hey?" he went on after a pause. "More Bye Scutnonsense?"

  Jared shook his head as if denying some discreditable imputation.

  "I've had nothing to do with the Boy Scouts since the day I was kickedout of--that is, since I left the Black Wolf troop in New York."

  "Dum glad of it, though you never tole me what you quit for," mutteredthe old man.

  "But to get back to that money," said Jared; "as I told you when I gotback from the Isthmus, I need it. Need it bad, too, or I wouldn't askyou."

  "Makes no diff'rence. What d'ye want it fer,--hey?" he repeated, comingback to his original question.

  Jared decided that there was nothing for it but to tell the truth.

  "To go over what I told you the other night once more, I'm in debt. DebtsI ran up on the Isthmus," was the rejoinder. "A chap can't live downthere for nothing you know, and--"

  "By heck! You got a dern good salary as Mr. Mainwaring's sec'ty, didn'tyer, an' a chance ter learn engin-e-ring thrun in. You git fired fermisbehavin' yerself an' then yer come down on the old man fer money. Iain't goin' ter stand it, I ain't, and that's flat!"

  The old man knocked the ashes out of his half-smoked pipe withunnecessary violence. Jared, eying him askance, saw that his father wasworking himself up into what Jared termed "a tantrum." Taking anothertack, he resumed.

  "Sho, pop! It ain't as if you weren't going to get it back. And there'llbe interest at six per cent., too."

  This was touching old Applegate on a tender point. If rumor in and aboutHampton spoke correctly, the old man had made most of his large fortune,not so much by farming, but by running, at ruinous rates, a sort ofprivate bank.

  "Wa'al," he said, his hard, rugged old face softening the least bit, "uvcourse you've tole me all that; but what you h'aint tole me is, how yer agoin' ter git ther money back,--an' the interest."

  He looked cunningly at his son as he spoke. Jared hesitated an instantbefore he replied. Then he said boldly enough:--

  "I can't tell you just what the business enterprise is that I expect togo into shortly. I'm--I'm under a sort of promise not to, you see. But ifeverything goes right, I'll be worth a good round sum before long."

  "Promises ain't security," retorted the old man warily. "I--GeeWhitakers! Thar's that spotted hawg out agin!"

  Across the dusty road the animal in question was passing as the farmer'seyes fell on it. In the center of the track it paused and began rootingabout, grunting contentedly at its liberty.

  At the same moment a humming sound, almost like the drone of a big bumblebee, came out of the distance. As he heard the peculiar drone, a quickglance of recognition flashed across old Applegate's face.

  "It's that pesky Mainwaring gal an' her 'lectric auto!" he explodedvehemently. "That makes the third time in ther last two weeks that Jake'sbin out when she come along. Ther fust time she knocked him over, thersecond time she knocked him over, an' now--"

  A smart-looking little electric runabout, driven by a pretty young girlin motoring costume, whizzed round the corner. The ill-fated Jake lookedup from his rooting as the car came dashing on. Possibly the recollectionof those other two narrow escapes was upon him. At any rate, with ascared grunt and an angry squeal, he whisked his stump of a curly tail inthe air and dashed for the picket fence in front of the Applegate place.

  But either Jake was too slow, or the electric was too fast. Just as thegirl gave the steering wheel of the auto a quick twist to avoid the pig,one of the forewheels struck the luckless Jake "astern," as sailors wouldsay.

  With an agonized wail Jake sailed through the air a few feet and then,alighting on his feet, galloped off unhurt but squealing as if he hadbeen mortally injured.

  "Goodness," exclaimed the girl alarmedly, and then, "gracious!"

  The quick twist of the wheel had caused the car to give a jump and a skidand land in the ditch, where it came to a standstill. Farmer Applegate,rage tinting his face the color of a boiled beet, came storming down thepath.

  "This is the time I got yer, hey?" he shouted at the alarmed occupant ofthe auto. "That makes three times you run over Jake. You got away themother times, bu
t I got yer nailed now. Kaint git yer car out uv therditch, hey? Wa'al, it'll stay thar till yer pay up."

  "I'm--I'm dreadfully sorry," stammered the girl, "really I had nointention of hurting--er--Jake. In fact, he doesn't seem to be hurt atall."

  There appeared to be good reason for such a supposition. Jake, at themoment, was engaged in combat over a pile of corn fodder with several ofhis fellows.

  "Humph! Prob'ly hurt internal," grunted the farmer. "Anyhow, it's timeyou bubblists was taught a lesson."

  "Oh, of course I'm willing to pay," cried the girl, and out came a daintyhand-bag. "Er--how much will satisfy Jake's--I mean your--feelings?"

  The old farmer was quick to catch the note of amusement in the girl'svoice.

  "You won't mend matters by bein' sassy," he growled; "besides, your popfired my boy down on the Isthmus an' I ain't feelin' none too good towardyer."

  "I have nothing to do with my father's affairs," said the girl coldly,noting out of the corner of her eye Jared's figure slinking around theside of the porch; "how much do you want to help me get my car out of theditch, for that's really what it amounts to, you know?"

  Ignoring the quiet sarcasm in her voice, old Applegate's face took on itscrafty expression.

  "Wa'al, it's three times now you've run over Jake. Say five dollars eachtime,--that ud be yer fine for overspeedin', anyhow,--that makes itfifteen dollars."

  "Fifteen dollars!" The girl's voice showed her amazement at such afigure.

  "It ort'er be twenty," snorted old Applegate; "thar's ther injury toJake's feelin's. You bang over him at sixty mile an hour an' scare himout'n all his fat an' six months' growth. Fifteen dollars is cheap,an'--you don't go till yer pay up, neither."

  "Why, it's simply extortion. I'll pay no such sum. Send your bill to myfather. He'll settle it. And now help me out of this ditch, if youplease."

  "Now, don't you git het up, miss. Thar's a speed law on Long Island, an'by heck, you pay er I'll hev yer up afore the justice. Lucindy!" heraised his voice in a call for his wife; Jared had vanished. Aslovenly-looking woman, wiping her hands on a gingham apron, appeared onthe porch.

  "Lucindy, how many miles an hour? Jake's bin run over agin," he addedsuggestively.

  "Wa'al," said Lucindy judicially, "it looked like sixty; but I reckinh'it warn't more'n twenty-five."

  "Humph!" snorted Applegate triumphantly, "an' ther speed limit'sfifteen."

  "Why, I wasn't going more than ten miles!" cried the girl, flushing withindignation.

  "Huh! Tell that to ther justice. I'll git my son to push yer machineout'n ther ditch an' then I'll hop in aside yer an' we'll drive intotown."

  "You'll do no such thing! Why, the idea! Take your hand off my car atonce, or--oh, dear! What shall I do?" she broke off despairingly.

  "You'll drive me inter town or pay fifteen dollars, that's what you'lldo," declared Farmer Applegate stubbornly; "now then--hullo, what in thername uv early pertaties is this a-comin'?"

  Around the same corner from which the auto had appeared with suchembarrassing results to its pretty young driver came three well-builtlads. One of them was rather fat and his round, good-natured face wasstreaming with perspiration from the long "hike" on which they had been.But his companions looked trained to the minute, brown-faced,lithe-limbed, radiating health and strength from their khaki-clad forms.All three wore the same kind of uniform, gaiters, knickerbockers, coatsof military cut and broad-brimmed campaign hats. In addition, eachcarried a staff.

  "Hullo, what's all this, Rob?" cried one of them as they came into fullview of the strange scene,--the ditched auto, the flushed, embarrassedyet indignant girl, and the truculent farmer.

  "Consarn it all, it's them pesky Boy Scouts from Hampton," exclaimedFarmer Applegate disgustedly, as, in answer to the girl's appealing look,the three youths stepped up, their hands lifted in the scout salute andtheir hats raised.